On Maple Street

Published June 21, 2017 in Max

On Maple Street

It was the summer of the lonely cicada.

Silly insect miscalculated and came out too soon.

Instead of the deafening chorus with all his brothers,

it was him alone.

Singing for a female who was sound asleep.

Max felt the exact same way,

born in the wrong epoch.

Longing for times of Tommy gun simplicity.